


A Second Chance to Take It Slow

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Civil War Team Iron Man, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Superfamily (Marvel), single dad tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.





	A Second Chance to Take It Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt, Steve and Tony meeting at a parent teacher conference for Peter.

Tony looks up from his phone, glances at the clock on the dash, and shuts off his car: three o’clock means the end of the school day for Peter, and Tony had made it clear at the start of the year that his day at Stark Industries would end at two-thirty on the dot. This new rule gave him enough time to clear his head, throw down a cup of coffee, and make his way to Midtown Elementary, where Peter is in his first few weeks of Kindergarten. Besides, you can do that kind of thing when you’re the owner of the company. **  
**

He lowers his sunglasses as he leans against the Audi, taking in the other moms and dads and nannies picking kids up at the front gate. He smiles, watching the mini reunions, and scans the flood of kids for Peter. They might have only been apart for six hours, but when you’re five years old, that feels like a lifetime. If asked, Tony might even say it feels like a lifetime for him, too, and he was forty years past five. He’s so used to being alone, had accepted it since he was the one _attending_ kindergarten, that having Peter in his life was like a wake up call. A recurring reminder that he wasn’t destined to be like Howard, and had more than enough love to give his little curly-haired bundle of energy. 

“Daddydaddydaddy!” Peter comes hurtling at Tony while he’s lost in thought, moving so quickly he barely has time to brace himself for impact before Peter throws himself into Tony’s arms.

“Hi, Petey,” Tony laughs, setting Peter down after a hug and a kiss to his hair. The moms around him were smiling and laughing, not-so-quietly remarking to each other how cute they were, asking if they could even believe Tony _Stark_ was so good with kids. Tony pretends not to hear them and turns his attention back to his son. 

“That was some hello. Did you have a good day with Mr. Rogers?” Tony asks. Peter _loves_ Mr. Rogers. They’d both been nervous when his first day of school finally came around, but Peter came home that day and every day thereafter bubbling over with excitement about his teacher and how much he liked him. 

“Guess what, guess _what!_” Peter could hardly sit still long enough for Tony to buckle him into his carseat; it was almost as bad as the day they made slime during science hour. Albeit with less green goo. 

“Hmm, let me think. You’re going to the moon?” Tony guesses after a thoughtful minute. 

“Noo, daddy, a real guess!” Peter laughs. 

“A real guess? Hm, okay, okay, let me think. Ah, okay I got it. You’re joining the circus!”

“Daddy! No, I’m not leaving you. Mr. Rogers said you guys are getting together!” Peter exclaims, excitement emanating from him. 

“He what?” Tony asks, sure he was missing something here. He’d heard enough of the parking lot parents talking about how gorgeous the new kindergarten teacher is, but Tony had yet to so much as meet the guy. 

“It’s almost time for parents teacher con… con…”

_Ah._ “Parent teacher conferences,” Tony supplies. 

“Yes! Mr. Rogers gets with all the mommies and daddies and you guys can meet! Can you be friends with him, daddy? _Please?_” 

Tony laughs from the front seat, looking back at his son through the rearview mirror. “We’ll see,” he says. “How about some music and you can tell me what you want for dinner?” 

Tony pulls away from the school, leaving the parking lot parents in the dust, and settles in to listen to Peter talking a hundred miles and hour about his day, the books they read, and how they should have peanut butter and fluff sandwiches for dinner. 

\--

There was a point, in the not so distant past, where Tony had assumed he would have someone helping him with the whole _being a parent_ thing. He would have a husband or a wife, and they would support each other, and their kid would be the brightest, happiest, most well-loved child in the world. But what Tony _hadn’t_ counted on was how many people wanted to date him for his name, his money, his ability to give them things. A few years and many, _many_ failed relationships later, he decided that the only thing he could know for sure was how much he wanted a child, how badly he wanted to be a father. Which was how he ended up adopting Peter alone.

There’d never been any doubt, at the adoption agency or among his family and friends, that Tony would be an excellent dad to whatever child he wound up adopting. Rhodey and Pepper had cheered for him endlessly, writing tear-jerker recommendation letters, helping him organize home visits, and being the best emotional support system he could have ever asked for. They were Peter’s godparents and the pillars that kept Tony standing during even his darkest points, but that didn’t stop the occasional desire for something more that bubbled to the surface, usually long after Peter had gone to bed. 

Tony was a pro at sleeping alone, would starfish across his California King bed to his heart’s content, but that didn’t mean he didn’t just … _want_ sometimes. He wanted that one person he could count on no matter what. To turn to after a sleepless night, or when Peter was having one of his rare but brutal tantrums, and feel reassured when he asks, _we’re gonna be okay, right?_

He feels numb with it, some nights, so desperate he is for someone to turn to, to hold his hand through things. It’d been nearly six years now, and every day was a new surprise, a new challenge to be overcome, and of course, he loved every minute of his life with Peter. Sometimes though, he just wished he was doing it with someone at his side. Being a full-time dad and running the biggest company in the world didn’t leave a whole lot of time for dates, though, even the bad ones he was used to. Instead, he made dinner, and hung colorful drawings on the fridge, attended board meetings and events, and drank way, way more than the daily recommended amount of coffee. 

Tony was having one such moment of despair the night of the annual Stark Industries Gala. They plan it for nearly a year, so that everything is perfect, glittering from afar with A-list guests, enough booze to stock a liquor store for a month, and more bow-ties and glittery dresses than most red carpets. It was _heinous_, and every year, Tony swore it would be the last one he attended, but year after year, Pepper managed to drag him back in. 

He’s sulking at the bar, taking a rare moment to himself, when he meets the former soldier. Tony’s thinking about how much he detests facing these things alone: schmoozing and making nice with investors, leaving Peter at home, even if he was with Rhodey… the whole thing put a sour feeling in Tony’s stomach. He’s the sole attendee at his little pity party when he feels someone sidle up next to him and order a beer. 

“These things are the worst, aren’t they,” a voice drawls in his ear. Tony doesn’t recognize it. 

He turns to find a smiling, blond-haired guy who looks like he walked straight out of a romantic comedy. Blond, blue-eyed, _gorgeous_ in a perfectly tailored suit. 

“The _worst_,” Tony says without thinking. “Though since I own the place, I guess it’s my fault we’re both here.” 

“I’m kidding, free food and beer isn’t the worst way to spend a Friday evening, I suppose,” blond guy says. “You looked so sullen and sad over here in the corner though, I had to break the ice.”

“Sullen? _Me?_ I’m having the time of my life,” Tony says with a dry laugh and a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t miss the way this guy is looking at him, though, and Tony takes a long sip of his drink, finishing it in nearly one gulp. 

“And yet somehow, I’m not convinced. I’m Steve, by the way,” the man tells him. 

“Tony Stark. But you know that,” Tony says, holding Steve’s gaze. “Is that why you’re here?” He asks, because he’s done this before, and he doesn’t want to do it again, not tonight and probably not ever.

“No, I’m here because you looked lonely over here by yourself, when you could be with any of the hundreds of people you invited here tonight,” Steve says simply. “Wanted to see why.”

Tony could explain that _he_ didn’t invite anyone here, that none of them are people he would willingly spend time with. That he’d rather watch a million episodes of _Paw Patrol_ rather than talk to them, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets himself feel the heat of Steve’s gaze, the burn of the martini he just polished off, and he decides to forget all of it, just this once. Peter was with Rhodey until morning, and Tony could take an opportunity when it presented itself in a beautiful package, just this one time. 

Which is how he ends up in a hotel room with Steve, last name unknown, former soldier and best friend of one of Tony’s employees. Sending whoever they are a thank you note is the last coherent thought Tony has before Steve’s lips find his, and they fall back onto his bed, discarding ties and shirts and thoughts as they go. 

Tony loses himself in Steve’s lips, sinking into his piercing, blue-eyed gaze until he has to look away, pressing his eyes shut and bringing their hips together, desperate for contact. Steve meets him halfway, and for a moment that’s all there is; the two of them and this moment and something Tony hadn’t felt in far too long. 

A knock on the door brings everything to a grinding halt, and Steve pulls away, panting and apologizing. 

“Uh, sorry, that’s probably the friend I was telling you about…” Steve shimmies back into his shirt and Tony tries not to appreciate the view that comes with watching him walk away, trying as he was to catch his breath. 

Maybe no thank you note, then. 

When Steve returns to bed, friend retreating down the hallway to another room, the heat of the moment is gone, but Tony can’t bring himself to leave. Steve drops down beside him, kisses him without the intensity of earlier, and something settles in Tony, his eyes going heavy. It had been so long since he’d slept with someone over the age of five in his bed. Steve is a virtual stranger, but it’s so nice, maybe he could close his eyes, just for a few minutes… 

When he wakes up, Steve is pressed in close to him, and Tony’s heart hammers as he extricates himself and gets dressed. He’s without a pen, and without a last name, and Tony resigns himself to never seeing the blue-eyed soldier again as he tiptoes silently out of the room, not letting himself wonder why his heart feels so heavy at the thought.

\--

By the time parent teacher conference day rolls around, Peter is all but vibrating with excitement, and Tony had put his one night stand behind him. Or, well, is it _really_ a one night stand if you didn’t do more than make out and fall asleep with someone? Either way, it had just been _one night_. So what if he was still thinking about Steve and his blue eyes, the way they really seemed to _see_ Tony? So _what_ if Tony fell asleep thinking about strong arms circling his waist as blond hair fell across a forehead relaxed with sleep? It didn’t mean anything, and he had to get that through his head. Besides, what was he going to do, poll his thousands of employees, asking if they had a hot blond friend? _That_ sounded like a lawsuit waiting to happen, and frankly, Tony didn’t have the time.

“Come on, come _on!_” Peter yells, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him to the front door with a surprising amount of force. 

“Alright, alright, give your old man a break, would ya?” Tony says with a smile. 

He hoists Peter up, walking quickly to the car, listening as Peter babbles out all the reasons Tony and Mr. Rogers would be best friends. It’s a long list, and they make it all the way to the school before Peter runs out of reasons, pausing after _you both are smart and have nice hair. _

“Do we? Well, hair can make or break a friendship, kiddo.” 

Tony takes Peter’s hand as they walk across the packed parking lot together. Tony had never been to a parent teacher conference before, but he knows enough to assume that kids are probably not supposed to attend. Rhodey and Pepper were busy, though, and Tony figured if Mr. Rogers was half as amazing as Peter made him out to be, he wouldn’t mind him tagging along. 

“This way, daddy, hurry up!” Peter skips ahead of Tony when they walk through the front doors of the school, leading him down hallways lined with crayon drawings and scrawled book reports, coming to a screeching halt in front of a room where he was clearly right at home. 

“Mr. Rogers! My daddy is here!” Peter calls into the room, and Tony is still too far down the hallway to hear the all too familiar laugh echoing out of the classroom, hear the warm voice greeting his son, welcoming him back. 

When Tony catches up to Peter, his joke about being too old for this dies on his lips when he sees _Steve_ leaning against the door frame. Steve-with-no-last-name. Steve whose best friend is a nameless SI employee. _Soldier_ Steve, not perfect kindergarten teacher Mr. Rogers. But he _is_ perfect, standing there, arms folded, in black pants and a pale blue button-up shirt that makes his eyes look unfairly captivating. A smile curls at his lips and his blond hair is gelled so perfectly into place that for a fraction of a second, Tony wants to run his hands through it, mess it up. 

A _long_ second, before he snaps back to his stunned reality. 

Steve is clearly just as surprised as Tony, though, his mouth opening and closing comically as he looks between Peter and Tony, like he’s trying to do math that’s well beyond him. 

“Steve?” Tony can’t keep the incredulous question from tumbling out of him, and Peter frowns at him. 

“His name is _Mr. Rogers_, daddy!”

“Sorry, yeah, of course. Mr. Rogers… I’m Tony Stark, Peter’s dad,” Tony holds out a hand, and Steve takes it, holding on a minute too long. “Peter’s told me nothing but great things. Thinks we might be … friends, even,” Tony can’t help but add. 

“Best friends!” Peter chimes in, taking each of them by the hand and dragging them into the classroom. 

Peter gives Tony the grand tour, showing him the reading carpet, the block table, and the drawing he did of the two of them, hanging on the wall with a gold star and a smiley face. How Tony manages enthusiastic nods and questions is beyond him, what with Steve’s blue eyes boring into him from the front of the room, the knowledge that Peter’s beloved Mr. Rogers is Tony’s one night stand. His … _whatever_ it was they’d shared two weeks ago. 

“Why don’t you build me something over here while I go and talk to St-... To Mr. Rogers, okay?” Tony asks, leaving Peter to the table of blocks. 

He makes his way to Steve’s desk, drops ungracefully into the chair across from it and fixes him with a piercing stare of his own.

“I know this looks bad,” Steve says quietly. “But I swear, I had no idea.” His face is so tense and earnest, Tony has to believe him. 

“You said you were a soldier,” Tony accuses nonetheless.

“_Former_ soldier, I did mention that. I just didn’t mention what I do now! I didn’t think it was relevant in the moment.”

“Still!” Tony’s doing his best to sound as indignant as he feels, but Steve’s eyes are making it hard. 

“Peter’s last name is _Parker_, Tony, how was I supposed to know? Sure, he talks about his dad being super smart and a business man but so do plenty of other kids! How was I supposed to know his father was _you_, Tony Stark, the only one night stand I’ve ever had in my life?”

_The only one?_ Huh. Tony tries not to let this admission distract him from the matter at hand. 

“Peter’s adopted!” Tony hisses. “I adopted him when he was six months old and I didn’t want to saddle him with the last name _Stark_ when he was too young to handle what that meant or could mean for him in the future. If he grows up and wants it, well, that’s his choice to make. Right now, Parker is the only connection he has to his birth family.” Tony explains quietly, calming down as he did so.

“Oh. I had no idea. He’s so attached to you, I swear you’re all he talks about…” Steve says, his eyes softening in a way that was _completely_ unfair given their circumstances. 

“He knows. He’s always known. There’s no reason to hide it; it makes it feel like a bigger deal than it is if I waited to tell him. It’s part of who he is, but yeah, he’s… we’re… close. He’s special,” Tony finishes, meeting Steve’s eyes.

“I can tell,” is all Steve says, and then they’re quiet for a long minute. Long enough that Peter calls over to them to investigate. 

“Are you talking about me?!” He demands.

“Only good things!” Tony calls back, shooting a look at Steve. 

Steve smiles at Tony and his stomach turns over. “Look, I know it sounds like a cliche, but Peter is a pleasure to have. He makes friends with just about every kid here, he’s leading the class in reading comprehension, and he clearly gets the support he needs at home. I would have said all this either way, I honestly would have. What I do not say to most parents, though…” Steve trails off, contemplative. 

“I had a nice time, the other night. I don’t do things like that, I need you to know that. Ever, really, with a job like this.” Steve’s face is pleading now, begging for Tony to understand. 

“Me either,” Tony can’t help but chime in. “Not ever.”

“Well, that’s… reassuring,” Steve says, and the relief is clear in his voice. 

“Peter really, really looks up to you,” Tony says, breaking the ice. “The whole car ride over here he was rattling off all the reasons why we should be friends. It started with how much he likes us both, and ended somewhere around us both having great hair.” Tony can’t keep the smile from his face as he shares this. 

Steve laughs, a rich, warm sound that Tony could get used to, if he let himself. “Well, you do have nice hair,” Steve tells him. 

“Ah, well, my secret is always having toddler fingers running through it,” Tony replies, and it’s easy to laugh with Steve. Mr. Steve Rogers.

“Look,” Steve starts, taking a deep breath. “I know this isn’t...ideal. And probably against a rule, somewhere, so please know I’m not taking it lightly. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t have your number, and it turns out, when you call Stark Industries and ask for the personal cell number of Tony Stark, you _will_ get laughed at and hung up on.”

Tony laughs, nervous now. “Well, good to know my security team is earning their keep.”

“They are,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, mussing it just a little. “Anyway, I would have told you that morning that I liked spending time with you. I’m kind of glad we didn’t do … more than we did,” Steve admits. “I’d like to get to know you, if that’s okay. With you and with Peter, of course.”

Tony looks at him, the man he met by chance at his enormous company event, the guy teaching his son, the same one Peter _never_ stopped talking about… What are the odds of it, really? Maybe if Tony wasn’t so tired of being alone, or maybe if he’d been able to stop thinking about Steve _at all_ these last two weeks, he would have at least tried to say no, but instead… 

Instead, he takes a deep breath of his own. “I’d like that. Peter would be thrilled to know we might just be friends after all,” Tony says. 

Steve smiles, wide and warm, and Tony could get used to that, too. “We can start with friends. Friends go to dinner, right?” Tony just smiles at him, already thinking of just the place. 

When Tony and Steve stand, Peter’s beside them in no time at all, looking eagerly back and forth. “Well?” he asks excitedly. “Can you be friends?”

Tony smiles at Peter and meets Steve’s eye. “We’ll see, Pete. Time will tell.”

“I knew it!” Peter cheers all the way to the car. 

\-- 

“What do you _mean_ I have to stay here?!” Peter pouts when Rhodey comes striding into the room before Tony’s first real date with Steve. 

“Daddy and Mr. Rogers need some time to talk alone, about grown up stuff,” Rhodey tells Peter, crouching down so they’re eye-level. “You want them to be friends, right?”

“I guess so,” Peter says, little face scrunching up. “But I want to come!”

“Next time, I promise,” Tony says, hoping there would _be_ a next time. This seems to appease his son, who settles into the couch, waiting for Rhodey to join him for their movie marathon. 

“You sure about this?” Rhodey asks, quietly. He’d teased Tony mercilessly about his boring hotel room encounter, but he was launching into Best Friend Mode now that he knew Tony was serious about someone for the first time in years. The fact that the person was Peter’s teacher of all people added an extra layer of complication. 

“I’m positive, Platypus, you have to see him. He’s like a Ken doll, if Ken came with a perfect personality and muscles for days,” Tony explains. “Besides, Peter loves him, and Steve loves kids, and I just think…”

“Look, I trust you. I haven’t seen you like this about someone since… I don’t know when,” Rhodeys says. “I’m just looking out, should I need to give anyone a talking to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tony smiles, pulling his friend into a hug. “Thank you, Rhodey.” 

“Any time, and remember, I’ll be speaking at the wedding!” Rhodey calls after Tony’s retreating form. 

\--

Somehow, it’s not weird at all, meeting Steve at a little Greek restaurant and having dinner together. It’s not weird when they talk for nearly three hours without stopping. Or when Tony learns how Steve made the transition from veteran to school teacher, that his mysterious friend is Bucky Barnes, who joined the company after Tony’s tech changed his life, giving him a prosthetic arm that was years ahead of its time. It’s not even weird when Tony tells Steve about Peter, how he’d chosen adoption rather than waiting to find his person, or when se confesses to hating the SI Gala more every year. 

“I could tell,” Steve smiles when they revisit the topic of their first meeting. “You really did look miserable.”

“And you still came over?” Tony asks, because even now, dessert in front of them, it was baffling to think that someone might approach him for his benefit rather than their own. 

“Well, yeah,” Steve rubs at his neck, blushing suddenly. “I mean, there you were, this beautiful guy who could be surrounded by people, sitting alone at a bar and looking like you’d rather be anywhere else. I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone, if it were me. Plus, I mean, yeah, you looked…”

Tony raises an eyebrow, smiling at Steve over their dwindling plate of Baklava. 

“I looked…” He’s beaming now, in awe of how easy it is to talk to Steve, and more so at how stupidly gorgeous he looked, flustered like this. 

“Like... someone I would bring up to a hotel room after meeting for ten minutes, breaking every rule I have for myself in the process,” Steve says, still blushing furiously. 

Tony laughs, carefree and light in a way he never gets to be. “Well, you didn’t exactly make it easy to say no, soldier.”

They smile at each other across the table, and it’s _easy_, and even after hours of talking, there’s still so much to say by the time they’ve paid the check and walking back to Tony’s place.

“So…” Steve starts. “Do you think this is okay? With Peter, I mean? I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, or put anyone in a weird position. And if this goes … where I hope it could go,” Steve pauses, blushing again, and Tony reaches out and grabs his hand almost without thinking, to reassure him. “I’ll probably have to tell the school,” Steve finishes, his hand warm and solid in Tony’s. 

“I think that’s fine. And if I have anything to say about it, we should probably tell them sooner than later. As for Peter, well, I think he’ll be _thrilled_ to be seeing more of you. He keeps telling me I need a friend. Or something.” 

Steve looks at their joined hands and smiles. “So, should we go in and see the little guy?” 

“Mr. Rogers, I thought you’d never ask.”

Again Tony is hit with the idea that it should be weird, introducing his son to someone he’d slept with once and took to dinner after the fact, but Tony revels in the knowledge that he doesn’t need to introduce them at all. That Peter _adores_ Steve, and had known Tony would too, well before they’d met. He might be adopted, but Peter definitely gets his smarts from Tony. 

As soon as they open the door, Peter is on his feet, beaming at them. “So? Did you decide?! Can we all be friends?” He asks in a rush, throwing himself at Tony. 

Tony scoops him up and smiles, looking at Steve’s flushed face as he shakes hands and introduces himself to Rhodey, Tony’s worlds colliding in a way that made something long dormant come to life inside him, warm and real as ever. 

“You know what, I think we just might be able to pull that off, Pete,” Tony says quietly, letting Peter’s pleased peals of laughter wash over all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song Either Way by Beta Radio!


End file.
